Jokes, Whims, & Coincidences
by Aviantei
Summary: Those three words were the things that brought them together, what made their lives, what inspired them to go forward, what caused them both trouble and happiness. Those three words were what made this city what it was. And maybe, just maybe, those three words would one day make them a little bit closer. IzayaxOC
1. Chapter One, Dammit

**Jokes, Whims, & Coincidences**

Chapter One, Dammit

Tekichu Sosa: She That Manipulates

* * *

Though I normally don't care for this sort of thing, I suppose that if you're going to read this, I should at least let you know that my name is Tekichu Sosa.

* * *

The characters that make up my name can be read as _Keizokuuta Sosa_, or Continuing Song's Manipulation. And it's in that manipulation part that I would like to start this story, considering that manipulation is what has made up most of my life. You see, I've always possessed the ability to bend others to my will and have always taken advantage of that fact.

The things I'm about to tell you are simply to get them out of the way.

I only discovered this skill on accident. I was in elementary school at the time, and I wondered why my parents would name me such a thing. I guess you could say that it was an omen of the talent to come. You could also say the only reason I had any ability concerning this particular facet of life was due to the fact that holding a name like that practically demanded it. But I digress. The truth is, I never found out the reasoning behind it, nor do I longer even care. As far as I'm concerned, being given this name was simply an added bonus.

Being a narrow-minded child at the time, I had no real clue as to what I could accomplish with a skill like that. Some say that kids are far more open to the possibilities in front of them, and in several cases that is true. But in my case, being young only limited my ability to think in terms of practical uses of my talents. Looking back on it, I honestly only manipulated out of instinct, such as getting myself out of trouble for something I had done.

Age was kind to me, though, and I started to think in terms of how I could benefit myself through this. Still being young, I only pulled out the stops for things that were relatively small in scale, but important to me back then nonetheless. I could convince my classmates to help me out with homework assignments I didn't particularly feel like wasting time on doing myself, or con them out of a piece of their lunch while making it seem like a harmless request.

It was during my years of middle school that I had started taking an interest in the makings of the human mind. I analyzed books on psychology and sociology in my spare time (my parents had a good amount of their old college texts hanging around, and after that the reference section of the local library satisfied me), and soon found out that people holding my particular mindset weren't exactly common in society. By that point in time I had taken to toying around with the personal lives of people simply because I could. Even more research showed me that I wasn't really accepted even as a minority classification, meaning if anyone knew about my antics, I would more than likely be shunned, quite possibly detained in a facility of some sort or put into some form of therapy.

Not that it mattered to me. I was a pretty self-sufficient type of person and didn't need anyone's approval. And if no one was going to accept me, then they weren't really worth even viewing as others that held any form of importance. They were useless unless I made use of them, making them no more substantial as toys in my eyes.

But toys needed to be played with, so I spent the break between my last year in middle school and my freshman year in high school on developing a scheme. My goal was only to see just how much I could get away with in terms of bending people's wills. The final result was pretty spectacular: the senior class that had formerly been filled with friends, couples, and otherwise acquaintances collapsed in on itself, leaving only a warring mass of humans. One could say it was a wonder any of them made it to graduation, but then again, I prefer happy endings.

Feeling satisfied (and definitely more than a little stuck-up), I went on to repeat the process for my sophomore year. My grand finale as a senior was to treat the staff in a similar manner as the senior classes before them. While probably not the best decision in terms of my educational value, it did keep me amused, though I was a bit disappointed by the employees of such a high class school. If anyone had any inkling that I was behind it (because I know there had to be at least one person), no action was taken to apprehend me. Who would believe them anyway? I was smart enough to keep my abnormalities hidden from the public eye. As far as everyone else was concerned, was just your typical high school student with a high GPA.

Graduation, as haphazardly thrown together as it was, left me with an issue. I really had no desire to fall into a menial job, but no particular career paths called out to me. The obvious choice then seemed to be going to college until a suitable occupation could be found. Not feeling like staying within the same boundaries, I asked for enough funds to supply for a particular trip.

My parents have always been the easiest to manipulate, though I'm pretty sure that has to do with the fact that I'm their daughter. Nevertheless, they agreed to my desire of wanting to attend school in America.

I took advantage of the time gap between the American and Japanese school systems' runs, using the five months to locate a school in a decent area as well as expand upon my high school garnered English vocabulary. It took me while, though I did eventually decide of being a math major, only for the fact that working my way through complex equations reminded me of controlling a person's mind. Both could be solved by going through a set of steps that would ultimately give a result. I would have gone into psychology if it weren't for the fact that I found those around me a much better way to study human decisions and influences than a classroom. Besides, what more was there to learn than what was in the textbooks I had already read anyway?

The years went by, and I still found myself with a sense of incompletion. While it had been an interesting experience, there was nothing left for me at the end of this particular path. I could have continued on with my education; my parents were more than ready to pay for it, but I couldn't take it. Sure, I had toyed with the people there, causing small riots and even tweaking the results of a few elections, but nothing seemed substantial. It was nowhere near practical, but I wanted to live a life that provided entertainment through the people involved, toys as they may be.

I left without attending graduation, not even bothering to pick up my diploma before doing so. A few days, a plane trip, and a couple of impulsive decisions later, I found myself taking up residence in Ikebukuro. Once again, my parents' money was behind the affair, procuring me a decent sized apartment in the middle of the city. It wasn't exactly the safest place in the world, especially with the recent gang activities that had developed, but that was exactly the way I liked it.

However, I took a break from live humans for a while, instead focusing on the groups of people that spilled their lives out on the Internet. People will bitch about absolutely anything on the net, their supposed anonymity allowing them to say whatever they desire without fear. I hated the way they interacted, only _complaining_ to each other, but doing absolutely nothing about it. There were even communities for people who wanted to meet up with others to commit suicide, and that inspired me.

It would be fun to toy around with someone who held those intentions, and I went about getting myself involved through the motivation of _Let's teach someone a lesson, shall we?_

I presented myself as Kakkoii_chan, buying a new cell phone to front the email account to boot. For a while, I only found people that weren't really interesting. It wasn't hard to tell through their words that they were simply frustrated, and not a single one of them held the real intention to kill themselves. Not that I particularly wanted to have someone die with my involvement, but I at least wanted to play with someone fun.

* * *

Not long after the start of the New Year, just when I was getting ready to give the whole thing up for broke, I found Nakura.

He was a lot like the others, only that I almost felt a form of sincerity when he told me about his story. He had lost his girlfriend to an accident, and some people went as far to blame him. He talked about not being able to come to terms with her death, particularly since almost every week his classmates presented new ways to torture him for something he had held no control over. I could see how the points from this to depression to suicide had formed in his mind, but still held on to my determination that taking your life was a pointless maneuver. All it that ended in was a person running away with no chance to come back.

I didn't say that, though. Instead, I fed him the story I had prepared for this persona. I weaved a tale of a girl who had led what she believed to be a perfect life. Her grades were near perfect, she had plenty of friends and was well liked in general, and her boyfriend had been with her for close to three years. However, her boyfriend was cheating with one of her friends, and the rest of her friends knew about it to boot. Unable to deal with it, her grades dropped and she became a recluse, though her parents showed no sympathy towards her situation.

I've never had patience for boring toys, even if that toy was a fabrication I produced.

It took a few months to get this all out in the open, and we traded off banter on how much life sucked often. Eventually it came to the point where I felt satisfied with how things had progressed, and couldn't resist the urge to propose a double suicide. Nakura willingly agreed, though I honestly had other plans. My intention rested in meeting up and playing along for a while, then forcing a nice little game of mindfuck on the poor boy to get my point across. I would just wing it from there, and could honestly care less what he did afterwards as long as I got to have my fun.

So when I was lied to straight off about the identity of the man in front of me and later kidnapped, I had the feeling the joke was on me.

* * *

But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

In preparation for the meeting, I had gone shopping, and presented myself in attire suitable of the role I was playing. My figure was the only things that may have seemed a bit off, but otherwise I looked just like any other third-year high school student. It felt a bit odd to be wearing a skirt that didn't serve as part of a uniform, but I dealt with it, reminding myself that it would pay off in the end.

We had chosen Nishiguchi Park as our meeting place, and crowds moved around me paying no real attention. The sky was already dyed into black, and I waited patiently, making little nervous movements every now and then. I held no real apprehension; I was just having far too much fun playing the part of a girl ready to commit suicide. There was actually a pattern to the whole concept, but I'll spare you the boring details.

"Ah, excuse me," a voice said, and I turned to its owner. Before me stood a man barely a centimeter higher than me, and his hair was cut close, not to mention tackily dyed into a ridiculous shade of red. I felt suspicion upon contact, even though the possibility of Nakura being older than I expected had been there from the start. I mean, I was personally far beyond my high school years. The use of the term "classmates" from his story didn't necessarily apply to high schoolers, but college students as well. Even so… "I'm Nakura. Would you happen to be—?"

"Yes, I'm Kakkoii," I filled in, mostly because his shitty acting was starting to irritate me. People that couldn't lie well shouldn't even bother in the first place. I reminded myself to smile, though, because there was some form of entertainment to be gained from this situation. "It's very nice to meet you." I completed my own lie with a bow, and we lapsed into the basic pleasantries of conversation to be expected from those meeting for the first time.

After a few minutes of that, we dismissed ourselves to get moving. He told me that he had been thinking about it, and he knew a good place to go for what he intended to do, so I followed. The wheels of my brain where already turning as to how to handle myself if the situation went sour, which I knew it would. There was even a blatant difference between this man's speech patterns and the words I had read off of my phone screen so many times. I just had to wonder how things had gotten to this particular point.

I was led down a dark alley that went to an unlit back road. I was told that others were there waiting, and my practical brain started giving me a lecture as to how much of an idiot I was being. Rumors about human traffickers weren't hard to find these days, and I had no doubt that that was where this whole thing was heading. I wasn't doing anything about it, though, only because a morbid curiosity told me to roll with it and see where I ended up at.

I stared down the van with its trunk popped, and some dirty blond kid sat there. It didn't take a genius to pick out the odd smell in the air that obviously belonged to something bad, and I recognized the tang of chloroform soon enough. I considered running, but my lack of any real means of defending myself stopped me. I could definitely outrun one of these guys, maybe both, but I knew the van would catch me without difficulty. And starting a fight didn't seem too favorable, either. So I did what seemed most logical at the time.

I let my legs collapse underneath me, feigning unconsciousness, and allowed my kidnappers to take me with them.

* * *

The trip was boring, particularly since I had act like I wasn't awake and the people carting me along were obviously assholes with nothing of interest to talk about, so I'll skip that. Besides, things don't get interesting until we reached the drop off point. My kidnappers stopped the vehicle, popped the trunk, and waited for whoever they were going to hand me off to. The smell of cigarettes stained the air, and I waited, hoping I wasn't a total idiot for getting myself into this situation.

Then a bunch of things happened, but since I was kind of keeping my eyes closed, I can only give you the sounds they made as a description: pounding footsteps, cursing, some unknown weight landing on top of the van, breaking bones, bodies collapsing. Whoever was in charge of the wheel started up the engine (trunk still open mind you), and a heavy footstep landed in front of my face. The smell of chloroform made itself known again, and the next sound I could hear was that of struggles, which ultimately died down to submissive groans. The engine was shut off.

The following silence stunned me, but then I realized that this was a pretty damn good time to try to escape. I opened my eyes to parking garage, which was definitely disadvantageous for me, but at least I only had to deal with one person in this case as opposed to three. Then again, this one person had taken down said three in a matter of minutes, but _still_. It wasn't like they were guaranteed to be an enemy, since they had for all purposes just rescued me. So I silently sat up, turning to look at my savior—

—and instantly knew this was real. I didn't have to see his face; I _knew_ this had to be Nakura. I didn't really know what to do, but if he had gone through all the trouble to put something like this together, he was at least worth talking to. I stared at his back for a moment, finally deciding on reaching out. My fingers slowly closed around the fake fur lining of his jacket.

"You're the real one, aren't you?" I asked, but he didn't even jump. I waited for a response, hoping that I wasn't about to get myself into even _more_ trouble. Eventually he raised his hands like some guy in an old western movie. Sure, it was more of a mocking gesture than anything, but I still held a fleeting sense of control over the situation. _That's right. Put 'em up, dammit._

"Looks like you caught me," he casually remarked, his tone light. I felt the lilt in his words, and it matched up so perfectly with memories of text on the screen. "Shall we go somewhere more accommodating? That is, if you're willing." I pulled my hand back, and Nakura turned around, propping himself on the back of the car seats, leaning across them.

His face was the kind that probably made most people squirm uncomfortably. That wasn't something you could describe in features; it was just what you knew it did. His hair was black, short, and slightly choppy, and his eyes were an off shade of brown. A lazy smirk was on his lips, and he seemed more amused than anything, like he was happy that I was challenging him like this.

I know I shouldn't have trusted him at all, but the odd thing was that I did. Anybody else would have had some alarm going off in their head telling them that he was dangerous. And I supposed that I had that going off as well, the difference being that I didn't care. He sat there, waiting for my reply, taking no hostile actions towards me. So of course I was going to accept his request. There was one main factor that influenced it all, taking my rationale far from the realms of normality. A single thought that inspired me beyond what any other person in the world could feel.

_He's just like me._

* * *

This story had been sitting around for a while. It's not complete, which is why I was iffy about even posting it in the first place. But I've decided to start getting rid of the piles of completed documents that have been filling up my computer for quite some time. This is the first one.

I love _Durarara!_ I love the world, the characters, the city, everything. Sosa is the product of that love all built up and expressed in a way that may seem off of the goal. I wanted to make someone worthy of the world I was putting her in. Even at this point, though she's existed for two years, she's still growing. I hope her story is enough to interest you and that I can make it even better than the ideas the me of two years ago had for her.

Enjoy.


	2. Chapter Two, In Succession

**Jokes, Whims, & Coincidences**

Chapter Two, In Succession

Orihara Izaya: He That Retaliates

* * *

I really shouldn't bother, but for the sake of consistency I will introduce myself as Orihara Izaya.

* * *

I won't bother talking about my past. I won't bother bringing up any of the nitpicky details that lead me to this point in my life. All you need to know about me to continue the telling of this story is that I hold a job as an information broker, I also share an interest in playing around with humans, and my original plan for the girl I only knew then as Kakkoii-chan took more than a few diversions along the way.

At the risk of sounding like a "creeper" (as she would so blatantly state to me on many an occasion later), I will admit that I watched the entire thing. I watched as Kakkoii waited with her timed nervous ticks, and I watched as she acquainted herself with the person standing in for me. I followed when they left their meeting place, and I listened as the girl was taken hostage. And it was at that moment I had a consideration.

I had no plan to pick her up myself, but the moment pushed me into it. The way she had regarded the man posing as Nakura with suspicion had piqued my interest, and I felt a much more personal touch was required. And while it was really much more of a hassle for me overall, I figured it would be worth it in the end. So instead of calling an associate of mine to run pick-up, I made my way to the drop off location myself.

Anything she didn't account for in detail was of my doing: it was really a simple process of taking out the kidnappers. The first two I dispatched with basic melee (which really wasn't my style, but I digress), and the driver was drugged by his own chloroform that had been sitting idly on the back seat when I entered the car. It was at that point that my focus shifted to Kakkoii-chan herself, mostly on the issue of where to take her that wouldn't mind an unconscious body for a while. I could have gone to my apartment, but that was far too much travel time for something like this. That concern was negated when fingers took hold of the hood on my jacket.

She inquired if I was the real Nakura, and I told her as such. I even extended an offer to relocate ourselves, but she gave no answer, only released me from her hold. I turned around to make myself comfortable against the back seat, and looked down at her. Her dark brown bangs were haphazardly tossed together, parts of her forehead visible in the gaps. The two locks that fell off either side of her head extended slightly past her chest, but the rest of it was cut off so that it barely made it to her shoulders. Her eyes stared up at me, and in the parking garage lights I perceived them to be orange.

I really questioned the type of idiots they were hiring to traffic humans nowadays. She had obviously faked passing out to be conscious now, though depending on her acting skills they may not have noticed. But natural fainting was nowhere near as reliable in terms of time, and I would have drugged her anyways for safety. They hadn't even restrained her, and I considered telling their employers to really think about who they put on payroll. By the time this was over, these three would need to find some other illegal way to make their living.

"I'm okay with going somewhere else," she answered in response to my offer, and I launched myself over the back of the seat, past her head, and landed smoothly on the pavement. She turned around and slid out of the trunk with grace. If she was impressed by me at all, her expression gave no indication. Nor did she react to the unconscious kidnappers on the ground, let alone the small puddles of blood that formed around them. I would make sure the bodies were gone by the next morning, but the stains would definitely give the office workers something to talk about.

I began the assent up the side stairwell, and she followed me without question. Eventually we reached the top level of the parking complex, and I spun in a circle on my way over to the edge. I leaned against the small cement wall, and Kakkoii took a spot against the side of the structure that sheltered the stairs. She looked me over in earnest before asking the question.

"Well then, care to tell me why you did it?" Her voice held no hostility or even fear towards me, which was unusual. This definitely wasn't the first time I had done such a thing, but no one had ever taken it so calmly. In fact, the only emotion I could even place on her at the moment was a morbid form of curiosity.

"Judging from how you're taking things, I'll assume you'll understand what I mean, so I won't mince words," I stated. "I love humans, every single one of them, no real exceptions." I neglected bringing up the exception, since I highly doubted she would care. "I love them because they're fascinating. The way they react, the way they cluster together, the way they fall apart… The list goes on and on, really." I shrugged as Kakkoii paused to consider what she had just heard.

"Well, that's my reason in a nutshell. But you obviously had some other intention since I highly doubt you want to kill yourself. So then, why'd _you_ do it?" She tilted her head, thinking some more. Eventually, she replied.

"Well, if you love humans, I guess it's safe to say I hate them," she said, no real hesitation. "I mean, they're fascinating from afar, but once you get into close range, they're truly disgusting creatures. They claw over each other for their own desires, and then when things fall out from under them, they wonder why. When things get bad they collapse and whine and bitch, but they hardly ever _do_ anything about it. I honestly can't stand how useless they are when you break it down.

"They're still fun to mess with, though, I'll admit that. They're toys; it's as simple as that. So in answer to your question, I did it to have something to play with."

She wasn't lying, or if she was, she was pretty good at it. But I believed it, because who would want to lie about having a mentality like that? Who would want to pretend to be something so obviously out of even the deviant bounds of society? Not even someone desperate to be different would go that far.

"What's your real name?" I asked. I held my own curiosity about this woman, and calling her by a name given through a false relationship didn't do her justice.

"How rude," she remarked, "tell me yours first." I could feel my smirk turning into something more like a smile and took no means to stop it.

"Orihara Izaya," I provided without hesitation. I didn't particularly enjoy the thought of being called by my false name either. That was a name for people to remember when I had destroyed them, not when there was a form of similarity. Besides, I wasn't about to let the owner of that name take credit for this. "Forgive my impatience. May I have your name now?" I wasn't irritated in the slightest; I was having far too much fun for that.

"Tekichu Sosa," she told me, and I blinked. Was she serious? Who had a name like that? It just seemed far too convenient with the circumstances. But she must have had that reaction quite often since she was giving me a highly stern look; almost like _question me, I dare you_. I did no such thing, only testing it out in my brain, taking the name to the person.

"Well, that's only a bit unusual," I commented, and her eyes narrowed in my direction.

"Look who's talking," Sosa shot back. "'_Orihara Izaya_,'" she repeated, rolling her eyes. "Let's just get the fact that we both have weird names out of the way and deal with it. By the way, I'd wash that chloroform off your hands; it seriously stinks." I gave no response, just stared, because I had gotten adjusted to it by now, not to mention there was a slight breeze that should have blown all other traces of the scent away.

I was just about to question what kind of unnatural sense of smell she had, but there was no time. Sosa had already started to walk towards the stairwell, tossing a small wave in my direction before she turned the corner. I thought about following her, but the sound of the door slamming deterred me. I remained where I was, my initial concern being that the kidnappers many floors down might have started to wake up, but I doubted it. I slumped down against the wall, exhaling a heavy sigh into the night air.

"Who names their kid _manipulation_, anyways?"

* * *

Within Ikebukuro, all of Tokyo really, there are groups known as "color gangs."

The concept is relatively simple. They're just like gangs you can find anywhere. They use a color as their symbol, and that's how you know who they are. They essentially died off after two gangs faced off in what could be considered war between their heads. I'll admit that I had a little bit to do with that one, but that's a story for a different time. Not many gangs gather anymore, mostly because the police are more than a bit wary of groups of people hanging around in the same color. But that's not really a problem if you're colorless.

There is a gang known as the Dollars, though calling them a gang is a bit crude. When you get down to it, the Dollars is a group of people who predominately know each other only through their website. It's a password protected thing, but once you get that, you're essentially in. They don't go around trying to expand their power. They don't take on other gangs. Most of the members don't even know who the leader is, and that leader doesn't give orders. Even so, rumors go around that say a number of untrue things about the organization, and they're quite a formidable force in the eyes of many people.

It wouldn't be untrue to say I had something to do with that.

It started off as a small organization, but soon enough plenty of people found their way to the password. The member count went up as people passed the information along to their friends. It can almost be considered as its own society; the members act as parts of the Dollars because they want to. They aren't forced into membership. They accept of their own free will. They can leave of their own free will. No one is stopping them from doing otherwise. But most people stay, and the amount of members continues to grow to this day.

It wouldn't be untrue to say I had something to do with that particular detail either.

I say this because, as an active member of the Dollars, they're obviously going to play a part in this. Not to mention, if it weren't for them, there really wouldn't be a story to even tell.

* * *

Decent amounts of the people I associate with personally on a regular basis possess Dollars membership. This isn't really a coincidence, but what can I say? Putting them in the Dollars ultimately benefits me, so why not? That was the reasoning behind the invitation that I sent to Sosa roughly a week after our meeting.

The invitation is a relatively simple one. It poses the question of _Do you want to join the Dollars?_ and you have your choice of answering yes or no, or just ignoring it altogether. It does almost seem like a practical joke when you look at it, but people respond to it, so it doesn't really matter in the end. If the person answers "yes," they're given the link to the site and the password. If they answer "no," I send their reply to the trash.

Which is why when I came back to the email interface I had sent the message from after going through some work, I was utterly confused to see Sosa's reply of one word, and it wasn't an answer to the question.

_Izaya?_

I stared down my own name written on the screen, not knowing how to react. It was true I used the same email as the Nakura account for most of my Dollars affairs, but I had taken into account that she already knew of it and used an alternate account. It wasn't that I particularly cared if she knew about my membership. I had been planning on meeting her through the message boards anyway, assuming she would have the same username as our previous talks. And even if she didn't, I still used the same name, anyway. She'd be bound to recognize me.

I tried to think of a suitable reply, and while I failed at that, another message presented itself on screen.

_What? No response? I know it's you, Izaya. You're the only one that has this address, and anyone else I've talked to through it has been blocked._

I picked apart the logic in her statement. If no one else had the address, that meant she had started a new account to do things from. That was reasonable, but from our talks I knew she had used the text interface, meaning she had probably purchased a new cell phone to front it. I didn't understand why she would bother. Why would you go through so much trouble for something only considered a game?

After a moment's consideration, I realized that I would have done the exact same thing if I had thought about it differently.

_Are you not going to talk to me until I answer your question? Fine, I'll join the Dollars. Happy now? Now respond to me, dammit._

I sent her the Dollars information, then logged out to re-sign in as Nakura.

* * *

This time, I was the one standing in the middle of the crowd waiting for her to show up.

She had caught me, which in relative terms meant that I had lost. And if you were talking about things with that logic, I guess you could say I had lost our first meeting, too, since she had gotten the last word. And now I was waiting for her because she had insisted that we meet again. She wanted to talk to me with no other prerequisite than we were of similar minds, the rest of our former lies forgotten.

I had complied with this because I did want to keep in contact with her, though I hadn't planned on doing so this soon. But the opportunity to get into this woman's mind was there, so I took it. Plus if I needed her assistance in anything else, even if that assistance was just using her to further something else, making some more of association with her definitely wouldn't hurt.

"Oi!" a voice called, and I turned to see Sosa running over to me. My eyebrows shot up on sight, mostly because her attire was completely different than what I had seen before. Sure, I had expected something different, but I didn't understand where this came from at all.

Her top was a dark purple, sleeveless and form-fitting, the thin layer of cloth covering two-thirds of her neck as well. Her pants hugged her hips in black, the entire ensemble giving me a better view of the figure she had tried to conceal in our previous encounter. The odd thing was both her torso and legs held host to bright red cords that twisted their way around her form. Her lower arms also sported smaller versions of the accessories, marking crosses on dark blue backdrops.

"What are the cords for anyway?" were the first words out of my mouth, skipping straight over the greetings. Sosa kept hold of her smile, but I figured she was probably used to that question.

"What do you think the cords are for?" she cheerfully asked, avoiding giving me an answer.

"I'm not answering that." I wasn't about to give her something she could use against me. I had enough of being at a disadvantage around this woman from the last two sets of interactions. She may not have fully viewed things with the same air as I did, but I wasn't about to go home without being overall victorious.

I refused to lose at my own game anymore.

I watched as her smile turned into smirk much like my own. "Why not? I already know you're an ass, Izaya-kun." I ignored her casual use of my name and the "kun" that followed in favor of observing her bluntness. Depending on how she used it, she could really hurt someone like that. Not me, of course, but there were plenty of weaker humans that would fall apart if forced to face down something like that.

"I don't know why, but I actually think that's an attractive quality," she continued, and I must have made a face since she cocked her head to the side. "What? Oh, I get it; you're used to people being afraid of you, so when someone compliments you it's a surprise. Darn shame, considering you're an attractive man. Then again…" She trailed off as her hand reached towards me, though I think it was subconscious. When I stopped her hand in mine, she stared at where they met like she didn't know how hers had gotten there.

"Enjoying yourself picking me apart, Kakkoii-chan?" I questioned, the nickname coming from my lips with ease. Her expression automatically soured, and her eyes narrowed at me. I still had no idea where that orange could have possibly come from; it had to be colored contacts.

"That's not my name."

Her tone actually seemed angry, which was a first. It appeared as if I had the upper hand at the moment.

I did consider her name, though, and wondered what it was that stopped me from saying it. Her parents had obviously been mental to name her that, but I knew that was nowhere near the issue. It was just its meaning that threw me off, the thought of giving someone a _title_ like Manipulation that almost signified that she was better than me.

And that was ridiculous. Not calling her by her name because it seemed like I was admitting she had won. My competitive side was taking things way too far.

"Sosa-chan…" I relented, mostly because I couldn't take the thought of having a _name_ stop me. Her expression lightened up instantly, her features smoothing out, just like nothing had happened. I decided to keep conversation moving as to stay in control. "What were you saying?"

"Oh, not much, really," Sosa stated, and I watched as a grin formed that probably unnerved lesser people than me. "I was just saying that with that horrible personality of yours goin' on, I'll probably be the only person willing to put up with you."

I suddenly remembered that my hand was holding hers and pulled it away.

* * *

First off, I'd like to thank everyone for their support on this story, even though it's only had one chapter posted. Specifically, thanks to alwaysblu, FoxGoddess2416, and Meenah D. Starcross for your respective reviews, favorites, and follows.

Also, to guest reviewer "R": Thank you very much for your support! I had hoped to make a character and world worthy of the _Durarara!_ universe so I'm glad you think I accomplished this! Hopefully you find your way back to this story and let me know how this goes.

Yes, this will be one of those flipping perspective stories (as a pain in the ass as it is for me to do this and keep everything straight). Izaya may seem OOC at times but I'm trying my best to avoid that... I've come to understand him a lot better then the time where I first started writing this.

Considering how much of this I wrote a long time ago, I hope it's still okay in terms of quality... It seems to hold up, though, so I'm going with it until I actually have to start writing new content... Oh dear, this story has a long introductory arc. Just think of it as the first nine episodes of the anime (which this will cover) and hopefully it will be alright...

Next time Sosa and Izaya babble about their philosophies of the world and we start to involve the rest of the canon cast in this mess. Please look forward to it!


	3. Chapter Three, I Suppose

**Jokes, Whims, & Coincidences**

Chapter Three, I Suppose

Tekichu Sosa: Coinciding Interest

* * *

So by some standard, apparently the next stage in this… relationship-thing or whatever the hell you want to call it was for me to visit his home.

Well, I didn't originally intend to end up at his home. But one of the things I had forced Izaya to talk about the previous meeting was his work. I had learned about his business as an information broker, and held some interest, particularly when he explained that it allowed him to keep tabs on most of the going-ons in Tokyo. I automatically could see the possibilities a job like that held, and asked no questions concerning his inspiration to take part in such a profession.

Of course this led to inquiry about my line of work, and I was forced to admit my actual lack of a job. I explained how nothing captivated me enough to even attempt it, and how my parents both held professions in the medical field, leaving me with no pressure to obtain one. Even if they didn't supply me money, I was pretty sure I could extort any necessary cash off of some suckers. Somehow the conversation had ended in him offering me a job.

He gave me the address for his office at the end of the night, telling me to stop by the next day if I was interested. I ultimately ended up at a multi-story building all the way in Shinjuku the next morning, and entering the door with the number he had given me granted me admittance to a penthouse, which also happened to be his home.

So yea, the next stage was me visiting his house.

I frankly gaped at the place because there really was nothing else I could do. The ceiling rose high enough to accommodate for two floors, and a second tier rested above my head with various doors lining one of its walls, which I assumed held bedrooms. To the right was a small kitchen lined with a nice set of appliances, and a large black couch that formed an "L" shape, accompanied by a few other chairs, sat comfortably by a small coffee table. The other table I assumed served as his desk had three parts to it, the center part perpendicular to the other two ends. There rested a none-too inexpensive computer set, as well as a small laptop. Bookshelves lined the walls, with the exception of the one that rested behind his desk. It was entirely panels of windows, from the black carpet to the high up ceiling. The view was nothing to scoff at, especially since this particular residence was on the top floor of the building.

I wondered where a single man in his early twenties got enough money to afford a place like this, and then I remembered the extortion option. I decided not to even bother asking.

"Ah, so you decided to come," Izaya's voice remarked from behind me, and I turned from where I was standing in the middle of the room to see him descending the stairs. He was dressed in all black like before, but the absence of his fur-trimmed jacket let me see that the long-sleeved shirt he wore clung to his body. "I thought you would, though I'll admit I didn't expect you this early. You're just full of surprises, Kakkoii-chan." By the time he had finished he was standing beside me, and he spread out his right arm in an overdone gesture. "Welcome to my office and, as you may have guessed, my home."

"That's not my name," I stated, just like I had done the previous night when he had called me that. "No offense, Izaya-kun, but if you're seriously considering my employment, would you at least put some effort into learning my name? I think I deserve at least that amount of respect."

"'Respect,' she says," Izaya remarked, strolling over to his desk and depositing himself comfortably on the expensive looking chair there. "Please, take a seat wherever you like." The offer was accompanied by another gesture that indicated the rest of the room. I walked over to a small table that was shaped the same as the couch and settled myself on one of the stools there. Izaya sat with his elbows on the table in front of him, chin resting on a small bridge formed by his intertwining fingers. "So let's see if I understand what's going on here. A woman who skips over the most common courtesy of referring to those she has just met by their family names and 'san' is now requesting that someone treat her with respect."

"Such measures are done out of habit and because they are perceived as right, just like the majority of actions taken en masse by society," I remarked, sprawling across the table. "Referring to people as such only shows a simulation of respect, and there are few people who would do so if they weren't _raised_ to do so." My left hand twirled through the air as I spoke. "Take the Americans for example; they have no such pretenses. They go for a sense of familiarity right of the bat. I'm not saying which way is right, but since I hardly associate with anyone that I don't have an interest, I treat them with supposed familiarity from the start. I don't like being treated with false respect, so I don't treat people as such, even if they're no better than trash."

"So you're saying nothing I tell you otherwise will deter you from referring to me as 'Izaya-kun.'" I formed my raised hand into a thumbs-up towards the information broker. "And _I'm_ the enigma of society?"

I let out a small laugh, not meeting his gaze. "I never denied being an enigma, Izaya-kun, I just pointed out the fact that you were first. Would you rather I call you 'chan'?"

"And I'm to understand that you only want me to refer to you by some form of your real name as opposed to your online alias and since 'Tekichu-san' is clearly out of the question… So 'Sosa-chan' it is," he deduced, ignoring my question. I flashed another thumb to show my approval before dropping my arm back down. "Now, about this job…"

I straightened up in my seat, trying not to totter off the edge as I did so. I ultimately resorted to taking my elbow to the table and resting on my palm since there was no back to lean against. "What do you want me to do, fill out a résumé?" I asked in monotone. There wasn't too much I could do if he did, considering the only thing of merit I could note would be the few small acting jobs I had done out of boredom back in the States. I couldn't even cite my education since I had never officially acquired my diploma.

"No offense, but I don't think I could find what I'm looking for on a résumé." Izaya's features held a smirk, and I realized it must have been his default setting. "What I desire out of an employee is something I've never really considered, mostly because I've never had a real need to properly hire one before. Honestly, I'm all there more than willing to give you the job on the spot, simply because it would allow me to study you better." He paused here, and I figured he was only being melodramatic. "Does that bother you?"

"What bothers me is that you don't think I'll realize that you're lying," I responded, and he didn't reject my statement. I kept going. "We're similar, Izaya-kun. Part of me is taking this job because I need some form of occupation. The other part of me is taking this because you interest me. And while I want to watch you, I want to play with you, too. I assume you have similar motives." The way his smirk grew let me know that he was aiming for a response like that from the start. "But I'm okay with that as long as you permit me the same opportunity."

"Are you really just viewing me as another…? I do believe people are 'toys' to you, correct?" Izaya asked, mock hurt lacing his tones. I considered it.

"Yes, but you're a much more advanced and engaging model than the rest."

"Another question, Sosa-chan. I have intentions for this city that are currently beyond the scope of anything you can imagine. Granted, these intentions are nowhere near pure, but you probably didn't expect them to be. By hiring you, I'm trusting you keep any pieces of information I ask you to keep secret as such. I'm fairly certain you can manage that; I just want to know you agree to do so no matter what the situation is."

He seemed fairly serious, and I wanted to know what he could possibly be planning that required a secure agreement like that. Curiosity was its own enticement to agree, but there was one thing I wanted to be sure of before I got myself involved.

"Izaya-kun, do these intentions of yours allow some space for me to play with the humans as well?"

Izaya paused to consider it. "If that's your deciding factor, I'm quite sure that could be arranged."

"Well then," I remarked popping off of the stool and practically skipping across the meter that separated me from the front of his desk, grinning. "If that's the deal we got going on here…" I placed a palm on the smooth surface and leaned down to look my potential employer in the eye. "…you've got yourself one half of the contract taken care of considering I really don't give a damn about perceived the 'right' and 'wrong' taken on by society." Izaya smirked before speaking the words that made up the other half necessary to get this show on the road.

"You're hired."

* * *

Just because I had a job that gave me insight to the majority of workings in the city, that still didn't mean I couldn't find out some things by myself. The fact that Izaya's residence was in Shibuya as opposed to my lodgings in Ikebukuro presented the fact of what a pain it was to travel back and forth all the time. The compromise was that I only had to go in every other day with the exception of having Sundays off and that he could call me in whenever he saw fit if the situation called for it. Considering the pay I was getting, it was a pretty sweet deal.

However, not even two hours into my first day off, I found myself in perpetual boredom with nothing better to do in my home than lie on the floor in the middle of the living room and stare at my rather uneventful ceiling. This was nowhere near a satisfactory use of my time, so I forced my lazy ass up with the intention of exploring the city for something fun.

Despite how many months I had spent there, I had wasted most of my time as a shut-in parading the Internet. Thus, my immediate knowledge was limited aside from the paths that took one from my apartment to any of the closest restaurants and convenience stores. Aside from that and the main attractions anyone would know about, I lacked familiarity with the city that now served as my home.

After realizing I had no clue where I was when I had barely started my excursion, I decided I should probably memorize the place before getting myself into any more trouble.

There were plenty of teenagers that made up the crowds, and I suddenly realized that it was indeed March, and they must be on break before the school year started up again. That meant I had spent nearly a year in that apartment, taking advantage of nothing in the real world around me. Ikebukuro buzzed with an energy that I had been missing out on. I hoped whatever Izaya had planned was good enough so I could make up for the lost time.

"Well you're an incredible sight!" a voice exclaimed, and I looked to see a blond boy beaming at me. His brown eyes were flecked with enthusiasm, and there was no way he was any older than high school age. "Such a way to stand out, not that your fantastic looks don't do that already! It's a miracle that you're alone. Must be my lucky day. So what do you say we stop for some lunch so I can get to know this fascinating lady, huh?" The speech was completed with a wink, and I came to the insight that he was hitting on me.

It just so happened that it _was_ time for lunch, and I had been wandering for a couple of hours. I was pretty hungry, too, and I figured that this boy was worth one run before he bored me. I smiled. "Lunch sounds good," I lightly remarked. "Did you have a particular spot in mind?"

The boy stared at me, and I guessed he had probably been attempting to pick someone up for a while. He must have had limited luck, so me agreeing was a surprise. He broke back out into a smile in no time, extending his hand in an offer. "Of course! If you'll follow me I can show you. Oh, but could I have your name first? I'm Kida Masaomi."

I considered it, figuring that the chances of be running into this kid again were low, so it wouldn't hurt to give him my real name. Not to mention he had enough manners to introduce himself first. "It's nice to meet you Masaomi-chan, I'm Tekichu Sosa." If he had a thought about my name he didn't voice it, instead choosing to sporadically lead me off through the streets.

We eventually stopped at a small café, and took seats at one of the outdoor tables. We both placed our orders, and I only smiled up at the waiter when I caught him giving me an odd look. Apparently that was enough to discomfort him since he did his best to run away after that. Masaomi began animatedly talking once again, and I humored him by actually responding.

"So, Sosa-san, are you new to Ikebukuro?" he asked, never once dropping his smile. "Or maybe you're on vacation? I've never seen you around before, because I definitely would have remembered. You're too amazing to forget." I internally winced at the "san" he attached to my name, though I skipped over repeating the explanation I had given Izaya. It was too much of a pain to repeat in the course of so few days, plus I didn't feel like scaring the kid off. I instead opted for a simpler reason to oppose it.

"Oh, don't call me 'san,' Masaomi-chan, that just makes me feel old," I almost whined, tapping my fingers along the table in a small dance. "And I'm not exactly new here, but I haven't gotten around much. If you did see me that would have been one amazing coincidence. Things look like they're changing, though. I'll probably be able to see more of this place now."

"Did something big happen?"

"I suppose you could say that."

Masaomi studied me for a moment, and then the waiter came back with our drinks. I freed the straw I was supplied with from its paper cover and plunged it into my drink. "By the way, I don't understand how you could ever feel old, Sosa. You don't look a day over eighteen, much less twenty." I swallowed the drink I had taken beforehand and let out a small chuckle.

"I'm actually almost twenty-four," I remarked, causing Masaomi to gape at me. "What?"

"I don't believe you. You're lying."

The rest of the conversation was filled with mundane things like that, but I was actually amused by it. I had never actually tried to get to know people since none of them would have understood. But not showing that side actually made me seem like I was normal enough to talk to. I wasn't particularly happy with the lie, but a game was a game, and if that was the rules I had to play by just once, so be it.

Things eventually died down around the time the check was placed on the table. By then I had a decent idea of what the kid was about, from how old he was (fifteen) to what school he was attending in the next couple of weeks (some place called Raira). He even waved me off when I went to pull my wallet from my pocket, gesturing his own through the air.

"Now, now, now, Sosa," he lightheartedly scolded. "What kind of guy would I be if I asked a girl to lunch and didn't front the bill? You don't have much faith in humanity do you?" He pulled the yen bills out and placed them with the table as I made the _Not particularly_ response I wanted to give die inside my throat.

I stood up, stretching my arms up as I did so. "Well, it was definitely nice to meet you, Masaomi-chan," I stated, not even having to force my smile. "Maybe if we're lucky we'll get the chance to meet each other again." Masaomi stood up as well, bill in hand.

"Well, I'd hope I get to meet you again," he responded. "Call me up if you ever need someone to show you around, okay?" I didn't bring up the fact that I didn't possess any of his contact information, let alone the cell phone number necessary for that statement. I did consider it though, and I realized I hadn't been lying when I told him I wanted to meet him later. I had this feeling…

I essentially launched myself across the table, landing on the table set in my haste. I think I might have knocked over the centerpiece, too, but it was a cheap one, so I doubted anyone would really care. My hand dove into one of Masami's pockets, but I didn't find what I was looking for. I transferred my search to his other pocket as the teenager protested loudly, probably drawing the attention of any passerby. "H-hey! So-Sosa-san, knock it off! What are you even—" My hand closed around his cell phone and I retreated with it in hand. Masaomi could only gawk.

I flipped the yellow-orange device open, flicking the teddy bear charm that danged off its side away. I played around with it idly, and Masaomi took no action to get it back. Satisfied with what I had done, I slid the phone across the table to its owner. He only stared down at the screen that showed the latest addition of my contact information to his friends list.

"I told you not to call me 'san,' Masaomi-chan," I lightly chided, giving him a small wave before walking away.

I decided to find my way back to my apartment. I didn't particularly feel like walking around with the last traces of Masaomi's desert on my shirt all day.

* * *

Alright, chapter three is officially live. Thanks to alwaysblu, Shimooo, and Genuinely-Unique for your respective reviews, follows, and favorites. I'm glad to know you're all enjoying the story and curious to what you all like about it. Don't be shy, I like talking to people who read my stories so I can try and improve my work so you all can enjoy it better.

On a shameless advertisement note, I posted a one-shot entitled _Cracks _that involves Sosa and Izaya in an alternate universe setting that never really happened ever if you're curious. If you like this story even just a little, I encourage you to go check it out.

That aside, next time: Sosa nibs into Izaya's business, psychology and mythology are discussed, and Sosa continues to meet more people! Please look forward to it!


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